


(There's no) wanking under the Qun.

by otherwiseestella



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Bull's Chargers, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Qun, Qunlat, Silly, Tamassrans, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherwiseestella/pseuds/otherwiseestella
Summary: Iron Bull makes the fatal error of trying to explain Tamassrans to the Chargers. Mayhem, and a ridiculous new marching song, ensue.





	(There's no) wanking under the Qun.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! A tiny plot bunny came to me, and I trundled it into this little fluff-smut-silliness.

The first rule of being head of the Chargers, Bull thinks fondly, is never tell them anything complicated once they’ve had a drink.

He isn’t sure who brought it up – Dalish? – they’d been passing through clan territory and she’d been jumpy, started asking everyone questions about their home countries. The message was clear: she needed a distraction. They were all happy to oblige.

So she’d asked about sex under the Qun. He’d told her about Tamassrans, about the purification rituals and the record keeping. She’d shot Stitches a look. ‘No’, he’d said, longsuffering, ‘I’m the healer. I’m not about to become Tama for the whole camp. Anyway, it's a woman’s job.’

Female-assigned post, Bull had thought, but he wasn’t about to get into male Tamassrans, aqun-athlok and gender as a construct. Instead, he elbowed Skinner, waggled an eyebrow. She’d laughed, elbowed him back, but she’d slid along the bench next to Dalish, slipped an arm round her waist.

And then Rocky had asked about wanking, about whether, with the Tamassrans always available, anyone ever bothered.

Casually, without really thinking about it, Bull had replied, something about it not being common, really, at least not compared to the south.

The end of his answer was lost, though, as the Chargers, led by Krem, took up a chant which they’d now been shouting for three full days:

‘If your day is sad,  
and the fight was bad,  
and you fear that death will come soon,  
well its twice as bad for Qunari lads,  
there’s no wanking under the Qun’

It had grown in length and complexity over the following three days. People kept adding verses. Krem had one about Nevarran maids that was too filthy to repeat, and Rocky had contributed a properly unsettling verse about the sexual habits of darkspawn. But the refrain, which was repeated constantly, never changed.

He couldn’t pretend he minded, much, even though Krem had started humming it in his sleep. It had cheered Dalish up no end, and the bandits they’d been sent to dealt with clearly thought they were insane, the way they were all shouting it even in the middle of the skirmish.

He was late into the tent, this evening. One of the new chargers, Sweets, had been nervy on watch so he’d sat with her, watched while she refilled her explosives. By the time he was done, she could tell a fennec rustling in the bushes from imminent danger, and the glint of the moon on steel from the glint of the moon on water.  
When he reached the entrance of the tent, he could smell it, sweet-salt and wet. He let himself in quietly and if Krem heard him, he didn’t stop, didn’t let up the short, sharp breaths, hn, hn, whilst his fingers made slick noises.

Bull toed off his shoes, letting his eye adjust to the gloom.

It was a glorious sight. Krem had his shirt pulled up, breeches shoved down just past his knees. He was lying on their bedrolls, head thrown back, fingers working over his cock. His other hand was in his hair, stroking and pulling.

‘Started without me, huh?’ Bull was quiet, his voice rumbling low in his chest. 

Krem’s voice was breathless, his cheeks flushed, the pink spreading down his neck: ‘Took your sweet time, didn’t you Chief? Been thinking about this all day.’

Iron Bull shucked his trousers off, knelt beside the bedroll. Ran one hand over Krem’s hipbone, scratching him ‘til he moaned.

‘Want me to lick you?’

‘Wanted you to lick me twenty minutes ago’, Krem grinned. ‘…too close now. Just…’

Iron Bull leaned over him, ran his fingers tight in Krem’s hair the way he knew he liked it, and licked into his mouth, hot and filthy, nipping at Krem’s lips.

The man under him came, his moan smothered by Bull’s mouth, his whole body tensing, back arching off the floor.

Once he’d come down from it, Bull knelt up again, taking in the sight of the wrecked ‘vint beneath him. Andraste’s tits, what a sight it was.

Krem stretched like a cat.

‘I’d offer to take care of that’, he yawned, nodding at the tent in Bull’s trousers, ‘…but I’m gonna pass out.’

Bull smirked. ‘Yeah, yeah, you get your beauty sleep. I can handle it.’

They settled down on the bedrolls together, Krem curling into him like a cat.

There’s silence for a minute, but just before Krem’s breathing evens out, he speaks again.

‘You can’t take care of it, Chief.’

‘…’ The Iron Bull is quiet.

‘You wanna know why, Chief?’

‘I have a feeling I already know why, Lieutenant.’

‘You can’t take care of it…’

‘Go to sleep, Krem.’

‘…because…’

‘Don’t finish that sentence, Krem, or I will put you on latrines for a week – ’

‘…because there’s no wanking under the Qun!’

After laughing until he was breathless and boneless, Krem fell gently asleep, leaving Bull with his dick hard, and that song in his head. It was a good thing, really, than Qunari didn’t dream: at least this way, he wouldn’t have to hear the damn thing again until morning.


End file.
